Guardian Angel
by AlleyCattDancer
Summary: What if you loved someone so much it hurt every time you looked at them? But you knew that because of what you did, there's no way you could ever be together. What would you do? Rated 'T' for language, mild violence and suicidal thoughts.
1. Shadows

**Okay, so I kinda went back and had a look at this one, had a lightbulb moment (bing!) and then realised that the first 3 chapters would have to changed. Not this one, but 2 and 3.**

**Sorry!**

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I can see her from my hiding place.

It's not a particularly good one, but it was the only place I could see her and still be in the shadows.

I know I really shouldn't be spying on her like this but I can't help it.

I just want to see her.

I know if she looks in my direction, she'll see me, but maybe that's what I want.

Maybe I want her to see me.

Maybe then, she'll dance for me again.

The way she used to before things went wrong.

I shift position slightly and gaze out at the circle of junk.

All the others are there.

I'd blend in quite easily.

But I know that it won't help.

Blending in is something I'm no good at.

I've spent so long hiding in shadows that I now have super sensitive hearing and sight.

I flinch at the slightest noise.

I'm wincing now, at their laughter.

Maybe I'll just stay here and watch her from a distance.

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

There's something about him.

Something mysterious.

Something almost other worldly.

Like he's not from this place.

I tried to talk to my brother Jerrie about it once, but he didn't know who I was talking about.

Maybe he's a spirit from another world come back to haunt me, and that's why only I can see him.

But I know that's just silly.

I've brushed him once or twice.

He's as real as the others.

He's just so shy that they don't notice him.

The current dance has just finished.

We all clap politely as everyone in the group takes a bow and sits back down.

I don't even remember what their dance was.

I was too busy thinking about him.

I hear my name called and I step out.

Maybe if I dance for him, he'll come and dance with me.

But it's very unlikely.

He doesn't like anyone seeing him.

I think that's why he spends so much time in the shadows.

He seems so nice, innocent and sweet.

I really want to get to know him, but he's so shy and quiet that I don't think he'll ever talk to me.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I can't stand it.

She's just so perfect.

Her calico fur, her warm hazel eyes, even that cute way she tosses her head.

But there's no way she'd ever like me.

I'm no-one, invisible and inaudible too, most of the time.

There's no way she would ever like me.

I'm too shy to talk to her.

Besides, my kind and her kind don't mix.

There is no way in the world that this will ever work.

She thinks I can't see her looking but I can feel her gaze.

I don't want to look at her because every time I see her, my stomach twists up and I die inside.

She's so amazing.

There's something almost fluid about the way she dances, like she's made of water.

I can't help it.

I have to watch her dance.

I watch from the shadows as she moves through the steps and a soft sigh escapes my lips.

The closest I've ever been to her is when she surprised me at the last Jellicle ball.

I was distracted by the dancing and I didn't notice until she was right next to me.

I remember flinching away from her and vanishing into the darkness.

She called after me but I didn't go back.

I don't like it when the others try and sneak up on me.

They all talk so loud I can hear them coming from a mile away, but she crept up on me so quietly that I didn't hear her.

I was scared then.

Now, I want her to do it again and this time, I won't run.

I turn and drift off into the shadows.

Why do I even bother?

She'll never notice me.

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

I'm thinking about him as I dance.

I've only seen him dance a few times.

At the last Jellicle ball, he and Alonzo did several sections of the ball dance together.

He moves with a smoothness, like polished glass.

Yes, glass.

I glance over my shoulder as I dance.

I can see him standing there, just in the shadows.

He's almost fragile, untouchable, like he'd shatter into a million pieces if I touched him.

But I want to really badly.

He's just so cute.

His rust and white fur with a few odd black patches is unusual, even for a Jellicle.

He's very tall, taller than the others and slighter, rather than muscular like the other toms.

And don't get me started on his eyes.

Everyone says that his eyes are ice blue.

But they're not.

His eyes are shining gold, like liquid sunshine, framed by long black lashes.

Everlasting Cat, he's gorgeous and I want him so bad!

I just want to keep him and treasure him forever.

I finish my dance and glance towards the shadows.

He's gone.

The others haven't noticed.

I don't think half of them even know his name.

He's so shy.

I don't think I've ever heard him say more than about four words at once.

I still really want to get to know him.

But every time I try to talk to him, he shies away and then disappears into the shadows.

Pounce and Tumble come over and congratulate me on my dancing.

I acknowledge them, but my mind lingers on him.

There's something familiar about him.

The way he moves, the way he shies away if I come too close.

But I can't think why he seems so familiar.

I turn and watch the other dancers, their movements casting flickering shadows on the piles of junk surrounding us.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I stand on the wall at the edge of the Junkyard.

Everlasting Cat, I feel so hopeless.

I wonder if she likes me.

I've seen her looking at me, with hope shining in her hazel eyes, like she's hoping I'll talk to her.

But I can never find the courage to do it.

Every time she stands next to me and tires to coax me into talking, my nerve fails me and I run.

I'm so ashamed of myself.

Why can't I just talk to her?

It's not like she's above me in any way.

But to me, she is.

I don't have the guts to do it, to talk to her.

Not anymore.

Not after what I did.

If she ever found out.

If any of them ever found out, I would be dead.

I sigh heavily and drift back to my den, wraith-like and invisible.

The same way I've been for a long time and the way I will probably stay forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Aww! I'd forgotten how depressing this was. Oh well!<br>Yours fearlessly, faithfully and truly  
>ACDxx<strong>


	2. Remembrance

**Okay, so this one got a major face-lift. Spot the difference if you've read it before. If you can't, I will be forced to sit there and laugh at you. (shrugs)**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

I perch on the wall surrounding the Junkyard, gazing out at the world beyond.

I'm not really thinking about the view though.

I'm thinking about him again.

I remember the first time we met.

It was a while ago but I recall it quite clearly.

"_Guys," Dem says, "This is…"_

_She gestures to the tom standing behind her._

_She dips her head slightly, "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."_

_The newcomer dips his head and repeats his name. _

_His voice is very soft, so soft I can barely hear it, but I strain my ears and just hear his name._

"_It's Plato," he says softly, "like the Greek philosopher." _

_He's tall, very tall, taller than Munk, taller even than Addie, and slight, rather than muscular, but there's a strength in his wiry frame._

_He's built like a dancer, long legs and straight back._

_His fur is rust and white patterned with odd black streaks._

_His eyes are a deep, liquid gold, framed by very long dark lashes and there's a newly healed scar on his cheek._

_He's actually kinda cute, now that I think about it._

_We all say 'hi' as Dem introduces us and then turn our backs and ignore him._

I sigh heavily.

Dem tried to help Plato make friends.

We didn't even attempt to accept him.

We just ignored him because he was different.

It wasn't until several years later that I actually realised how cute he was.

Unfortunately, now he doesn't talk to anyone much, least of all me.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I sit on the edge of the Junkyard wall, swinging my legs.

A cold wind blows through my fur and I wince as the sharpness of it makes the scar on my cheek sting.

It's been over four years since I got it and it's never really healed properly.

That was just before I met Munkustrap and he convinced me to come and live in the Junkyard with his tribe.

He introduced me to Demeter and told her to show me round.

She did, and she tried to get her friends to accept me.

They didn't, so she left me.

Left me to make my own way, make my own friends.

Not that anyone would ever want to be friends with me.

I don't really mind though.

I've always been awful at making friends.

Besides, staying in the shadows allows me to observe the others without them noticing me.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Except for one thing.

Because I'm practically invisible to everyone, there's no way I could ever talk to her, to Teazer.

I'm an outcast, even more than Cori and Tanto, the psychic twins.

Even more than Exotica, who, if you think about it, isn't really an outcast at all.

She just prefers to keep to herself, as do the twins.

I don't have any choice.

I'm not a Jellicle and I never will be.

I have no family here, no family and no friends.

Before I came here, I used to live with a tribe of alleycats.

I had friends among them, because we were all outcasts.

Here I'm the only one.

I'm alone.

Demeter, the queen who first showed me around, was nice.

Gentle and sweet, and she tried to get her friends to accept me.

They didn't though, and she gave up, abandoning me.

So now I'm alone again.

I don't think she even remembers me anymore.

She certainly doesn't remember my name.

I've just faded into the background.

I'm nothing now.

And it will probably stay that way.

Forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow! I forgot how short this one was! Anyways, <strong>  
><strong>Yours fearlessly, faithfully and truly<strong>  
><strong>ACDxx<strong>


	3. Dancing alone

**Take two for chapter three! Meh! Here goes!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cats, Teazer or Plato. I do however own what Plato is and what happens to him and Teazer!**

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

I can't stop thinking about him.

It's so hard.

I wonder if he knows I like him.

Probably.

He seems quite perceptive, unlike the other toms.

I wonder if he likes me back.

Hard to tell.

He doesn't really say anything and he spends so much time in the shadows that it's almost impossible to see him.

I suppose I could ask him.

But I don't want him to flinch and shy away like he normally does.

I just want to get to know him better.

But it's almost like he doesn't want to know anyone.

Like he's happiest by himself.

But I know that's not true.

I've seen the way he gazes wistfully at us when we play our dancing games.

Like he wishes he could join in.

But something's holding him back.

Maybe he can't dance.

Maybe that's why he doesn't join in.

But I know that's silly.

He can dance.

I've seen him do it.

He dances well, better than some of the other toms.

There's a certain grace about him.

Like he's something other-worldly.

An angel maybe.

He could be a guardian angel.

Whenever I'm in trouble or lonely or scared, I look up and he's there.

Never close enough for me to touch.

But there all the same.

Like a guardian spirit, protecting me from harm.

I decide to go and sit on the Junkyard wall.

I sit there sometimes when I'm at war with myself and I need to think.

I think I'll go round the long way.

I need to be by myself.

And I don't want the others seeing me and wanting to come with me.

I just need to be by myself for a bit.

Without Victoria, Demeter, Bombalurina or any of the others hanging around.

And certainly without my brother and his friends tagging along.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I sit in the clearing near my den.

I'm the furthest from the centre of the Junkyard.

There isn't anyone who lives near me.

I'm all on my own.

Normally I don't mind.

I'm a solitary person by nature.

But sometimes, it can get quite lonely out here.

All by myself.

With no-one to talk to.

I sigh heavily, leaning my chin on one paw.

Everlasting cat, I hate this.

Why can't I just find the courage and talk to someone?

I wish I could.

But I know it's useless.

I'll never do it.

I'm just too shy.

Too shy to talk to anyone.

And certainly too shy to join in their dancing games.

Besides, there's always a chance one of them might find out what I did.

If that got out, I'd die.

Both of shame and by my crime.

The punishment for what I did is death.

It's no good.

I'm resigned to a life of watching them dance.

That will never change.

The others build friendships.

I just build loneliness.

And it hurts.

I just feel so alone.

Maybe if I dance, that will cheer me up.

Dancing always makes me feel happier.

Just because I don't dance with the others, doesn't mean I can't dance.

I just don't do it when the others are around because afterwards they try to talk to me and I can't deal with that.

I'm just uncomfortable with crowds.

I get to my feet and walk into the centre of the clearing.

I have this dance I do when I need to cheer myself up.

It's very fast and requires an awful lot of concentration.

But I find it very easy.

Tricky steps are something I've always been able to get my head round.

And as for dancing fast, well, for me that's as easy as breathing.

Yes, I think I'll do that dance.

I take a deep breath to calm myself and begin to dance.

Everlasting cat, I love this dance.

It involves a lot of leaps and turns.

I like leaping.

It makes me feel light and free, like a bird.

Like I could soar across the skies forever.

It also has a lot of acrobatics.

None of the others can do acrobatics the way I can.

Not even Pounce and Tumble.

Not that I would ever let them see what I can do.

They'll never know what I'm truly capable of.

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

I stiffen as I hear the others nearby.

I don't want them to see me.

I don't want to spend time with them now.

Maybe later, but not now.

I need time to myself.

I slip off in the other direction.

I think I'll go round the other way.

As I pass the clearing furthest from the centre, I notice movement out of the corner of my eye.

I stop to watch.

Alone in the clearing, with no-one else around, someone is dancing.

As the dancer turns slightly, I catch my breath.

It's him.

Dancing by himself, but dancing amazingly.

So he can dance.

I was fairly sure he could.

I abandon any thought of sitting on the wall and thinking.

I just want to watch him dance.

It's quite a difficult looking dance that he's doing and very fast.

He seems perfectly at ease with throwing himself out of turns.

His leaps are amazing though.

High and elegant.

Having long legs is an asset when leaping, I suppose.

I watch him, catching my breath slightly whenever he executes a particularly tricky move.

There's a lot of acrobatics in the dance.

Tricky acrobatics, that I don't think even Pounce and Tumble could do.

He turns a backwards walkover then slides into second splits.

Placing his hands on the ground he pushes up and ends up in a perfect handstand.

Then he brings both legs over his head and stands up.

I can't help myself.

I clap.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I can tell she's watching.

I can tell she's standing there, watching me dance.

But I don't care.

As I dance, I feel my worries disintegrate as I concentrate on landing my jumps neatly.

There's nothing quite like dancing.

It really helps me forget about everything except the steps.

I know she's watching but I don't care.

I'm happy and besides, she doesn't have any of her friends with her.

It's just her.

I just want to wash away all my fears and worries and dancing helps me do that.

So what if she watches me.

As long as none of the others come along and watch, I'm fine.

Perfectly happy.

Dancing alone.

By myself.

She's so quiet; I can just about ignore her.

And concentrate on dancing my worries away.

Like I always do when I'm upset.

And it works.

It really helps.

I finish the dance with a particularly tricky handstand maneuver that one of my alleycat friends taught me.

I stand up and bow towards her as she claps.

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

As he finishes his dance, he turns towards me and bows.

"You might as well come out Teazer. I know you're there."

I step cautiously into the clearing,

Plato gives me a curious look then turns another backwards walkover.

Then he relaxes.

"Can I be of assistance to you, Miss Teazer?"

He sounds so formal that I can't help dropping a neat curtsy.

"Why, Master Plato, I was just going to sit on the wall when I happened to notice your fine dancing."

Plato flushes slightly, ducking his head and muttering,

"It's not that good."

I step closer, cautiously, waiting for him to shy away and run.

But he doesn't.

He stays put.

He looks like he's studying the ground but I can tell he's watching me out of the corner of his eye.

Judging me.

If I get too close, he'll run.

He always does.

I stop a reasonable distance away and hold my hands out in a 'peace' gesture.

Plato eyes me curiously,

"Peace? Really?"

I shrug,

"Usually you run."

He sighs,

"I'm tired of running. I run so far and yet it does nothing."

I stare at him, confused, and he laughs,

"Just ignore me. I ramble sometimes."

He laughs again.

He seems freer, somehow.

Lighter.

Like he's been freed from a prison.

And I wonder at the change.

Not that I'm complaining.

I kinda like this new, more talkative version of Plato.

* * *

><p><span>Plato<span>

I really shouldn't be doing this.

It goes against everything I've been taught.

I tense instinctively as she moves closer.

Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run.

To hide.

To abandon any hope of making friends.

But somehow, I can't.

Something's making me stay.

Maybe I'm tired of being lonely.

Maybe I just want someone to talk to.

But it's more than that.

It's almost like she's the one keeping me here.

Rooted to the spot.

Scared stiff and unable to move.

To run.

She moves a little closer and this time, the fear wins out.

I run.

I can't help it.

It's instinctive.

I've been doing it for years.

I run.

* * *

><p><span>Teazer<span>

When he bolts, I flinch.

I knew I'd overdone it.

He's so shy, so delicate.

He's impossible to get close to.

But I think I'm closer to gaining his trust.

He stayed for a while.

He only ran when I got too close.

Maybe he's getting better.

Maybe one day, I'll be able to have a proper conversation with him.

Without him flinching.

I turn and walk back towards the centre of the Junkyard.

Towards my friends and my annoying brother.

As I leave the clearing, I glance back.

He's sitting on one of the piles of junk, watching me.

And I know this time, as soon as I come anywhere near him, he'll run.

Like he always does.

No second chances.

Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

* * *

><p><strong>yay! Done! Chapter 4 should be up soon-ish. (shifty glance) I am writing it. I'm just starting Year 10 and all the teachers are telling us is:<strong>  
><strong>you'll be in year 11 next year (like I don't know that)<strong>  
><strong>the work's going to get harder (well, duh!)<strong>  
><strong>you're halfway through high school (I know and it's scary)<strong>  
><strong>etc, etc.<strong>

**Yours fearlessly, faithfully and truly**  
><strong>ACDxx<strong>


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